Danielle Steel - Malice

“Enjoy your husband, be good to yourself, Grace. You've earned it,” the priest said wisely, but Grace still fumed and was looking for a project. She was thinking of applying to school, but in November it became a moot point, six weeks to the day after they were married.

“What are you looking so smug about? You look like the cat that swallowed the canary.” Charles had just dashed home to have lunch with her. He was becoming famous in the office for his long lunches, and his partners were teasing him about how much work it was to have a young wife. But he knew that they were all jealous, and would have given anything to be in his shoes … or his boxers. “What have you been up to?” he questioned, wondering if she had found something to do with herself. She'd been unhappy for weeks over his edict about St. Andrew's. “Where'd you go today?”

“The doctor.” She grinned.

“How's the pelvis?”

“Fine. It's healed beautifully.” She was grinning from ear to ear by then, and he was laughing at her. She looked so cute when she had a secret. “There's something else though.”

Charles's face grew serious. “Something wrong?”

“No.” She grinned and kissed him on the lips as she unzipped his trousers. Considering how cautiously they had begun, they had certainly made up for it since their engagement. “We're having a baby,” she whispered as he grew passionate and was about to lay her down on their bed, and he looked at her with complete amazement.

“We are? Now?”

“Not now, silly. In June. I think I got pregnant in Saint Bart's.”

“Wow!” He was going to be a father for the first time, at forty-three, and it completely bowled him over. He had never been as happy in his life, and he could hardly wait to tell the entire world. “Is it still all right if we make love?”

“Are you kidding?” she laughed at him. “We can make love till June.”

“Are you sure we won't hurt anything?”

“Promise.” They made love, as they always did, instead of lunch, and then he grabbed a hot dog from a stand on the street, and dashed back to his office. It was the best life had ever been for him, far better than being married to a movie star, far better than any romance he'd had as a kid. She was perfect for him, and he adored her.

They spent Christmas in St. Moritz, and at Easter he wanted to take her to Hawaii, but took her to Palm Beach instead because it was closer, and she was almost seven months pregnant.

She had an easy pregnancy, and everything had gone smoothly. The doctor was only mildly concerned about what would happen to her pelvis when she delivered. And if there was any sign of strain at all, he had warned her that he would do a cesarean section. But failing that, Charles had promised to be there, and in May they went to their Lamaze class at Lenox Hill. She had already decorated the nursery by then, and they went for long walks at night, up Madison Avenue, or down Park, and talked about their life, their good fortune, and their baby. It still startled them both, and they were both still amazed that, in bed at least, her past had never come back to haunt them.

He had asked her once how she would feel if the story ever came out, about her father, and going to prison, and she had said honestly that she would hate it.

“Why?” She wondered why he had even asked her.

“Because those things come out some times,” he said philosophically. He had learned that with his last wife, and her constant exposure in the tabloids. Their divorce had made a huge stink and they had said everything from the rumor that she was on drugs, to the one that she was gay, to the one that he was. And finally, they had just left them alone, and they had gone their separate ways. But Grace's would undoubtedly be a much bigger story if it ever came out. But fortunately, for both of them, they were not in the public eye, and not important. He was just an ordinary citizen now, since he was no longer married to a star, and Grace was just his wife. It was perfect.

She went into labor one night as they walked home. They had been window shopping on Madison Avenue, and she scarcely noticed the first pains. It was only after a while that she realized what had happened. They called the doctor and he told them to take their time, first babies were usually in no hurry.

“Are you okay?” he asked her a thousand times, and she lay on their bed, watching TV, and eating Jell-O. “Are you sure that's what you're supposed to do?” he asked nervously. He felt a thousand years old as he watched her, fearing that she might have a hard time, or have the baby before they left the house. Lately, her belly had looked enormous. But she seemed unconcerned as she watched her favorite shows, drank ginger ale and ate ice cream. It was almost midnight when she finally started to look seriously uncomfortable and could no longer talk through the pains, which he knew was his sign to take her to the hospital and call the doctor.

He called him again, and the doctor told them to come in. And as Charles helped her down the stairs, she snapped at him several times, and he smiled at her. This was the real thing. Pretty soon, they'd have a baby. It was the most exciting thing that had ever happened to him, and to her. And by the time they settled her in a labor room, she had calmed down again, but Grace was surprised by how much the contractions hurt, and how strong they were. Finally, by two a.m. she was panting and said she couldn't stand them any longer.

Charles was doing everything he'd been taught to do, but none of it was helping, and he was starting to worry that they'd have to do a cesarean section. But as the pains got worse, she started to scream, and clutch at him, and he would have done anything to make it end. He kept asking the nurses to give her some medication.

“Everything is fine, Mr. Mackenzie. Your wife is doing beautifully.” His wife looked like she was ready to die as she screamed again, and then finally they took her to the delivery room, and she started pushing. Charles thought he had never seen anything so painful, and he was sorry they'd ever done it. All he wanted to do was take her in his arms again, and make the pain stop for her. But nothing helped her now, and the doctor didn't want to give her medication. He said he really preferred natural childbirth, for mother and child. Charles wanted to kill him, as he watched what Grace was going through.

She pushed for an hour, and it was five in the morning by then, Grace was beside herself with pain, and incoherent with the agony of each contraction. And as he watched her, he vowed they'd never do this again. He wanted to apologize to Grace for putting her through it. And he swore to himself that if she and the baby both came out of it alive, he'd never let this happen again. And just as he was about to promise never to lay a hand on her again, there was a terrifying scream from her, and a long, thin howl, and suddenly he found himself looking into the face of the son they had decided to call Andrew Charles Mackenzie. He had huge blue eyes like Grace, and dark red hair, but everything else about him was Charles, right down to his tiny fingers. For his father, it was exactly like looking into the mirror. He laughed and cried all at once as he looked at him.

“Oh my God … he's so beautiful,” Charles said in awe of the baby, and bent to kiss his wife. She was lying flat now, after so much hard work, and looking suddenly ecstatic as she laughed and smiled at her husband.

“Is the baby all right?” she asked over and over again, and as soon as they had cleaned him off and checked his lungs again, they handed him to his mother, and he lay at her breast, and immediately nuzzled close to her, while Charles watched them.

“Grace … how can I ever thank you?” Charles said, wondering how he had managed to live so long without this baby. And how brave she was to go through all that for him. He had never been as touched or as much in love with anyone as he was with Grace at that moment.